


Visions

by vassalady



Category: Kings (TV 2009)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-16 02:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13044429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassalady/pseuds/vassalady
Summary: Jack speaks with Joseph's ghost.





	Visions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chelseafrew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelseafrew/gifts).



“You didn’t love Shiloh enough.”

Jack didn’t open his eyes. It wasn’t the first time Joseph had appeared. He doubted it would be the last.

“I love it more than anyone,” Jack said.

“You love the monarchy,” Joseph said. “That’s different.”

“Doesn’t matter now.”

His father imprisoned, his mother self-exiled, and his sister disappeared in grief, Jack spent lonely days in the apartments David - _King_ David now - had granted him. A fancy prison, of sorts, though David would likely let him depart if he were to leave Shiloh behind altogether.

Jack would never do that. Instead, he spent day in and day out in these stagnant rooms.

He rolled over and came face to face with Joseph, mirroring Jack’s position on the bed. Joseph looked as beautiful as he always did. The sun shone through the crack in the curtains, casting a beam across Joseph’s eyes. Joseph did not squint in the light.

“It does,” Joseph said. “Because now you need to make a decision.”

Jack didn’t want another lecture. It seemed that was all Joseph had for him these days. He pushed himself off the bed and made his way to the window. He threw open the curtains. His apartments looked down upon the gardens. As far as prisons went, this was pure luxury.

He felt a whisper of wind at his back. He turned to find Joseph there. “Haven’t you got anyone else to haunt?” 

“Not much to do in the afterlife.”

“That was your choice, wasn’t it?” Jack hissed. 

Joseph, damn him, did not look away. He did not look ashamed or embarrassed or anything that Jack wanted him to be. 

“We all make our own choices, Jack. You should realize that by now. Take responsibility for your choices, but also realize the world doesn’t revolve around you. The persecution complex isn’t cute.”

The anger flared. Jack stepped into Joseph’s space, wishing he could shove him away again. “You were selfish! You used your death to try to out me!”

Joseph laughed, darkly. “See? You think your closeted ass was enough for me to commit suicide? That there was no other reason?”

Jack’s anger faltered. “You never said-”

“You weren’t around long enough to tell.”

That cut deeply. He deserved it of course, but it didn’t make the guilt he felt any less. 

“I… My father, the crown-”

There were a thousand excuses on his lips, and he couldn’t voice a single one. He had, in the past, a thousand times over. Now, repeating them to Joseph once more was… impossible.

He reached, desperately, for the anger once more.

“That was cruel, manipulative-”

“I wanted to save you,” Joseph said. The sadness behind his words quenched every once of anger. “From your father. From yourself.”

 _That wasn’t your choice._ Jack could not say the words. He could not condemn Joseph, because none of it mattered, because Jack was trapped in these rooms, because Joseph was gone. Because Jack was too much of a coward to grasp the happiness that Joseph had once offered him, back when it still did matter. Back when they could still hold one another.

“I’m tired,” Jack said.

He sank down into a chair. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Joseph said.

“You’re-” Jack cut himself off. Even in death, he was making Joseph work for his attentions.

Joseph was right. Jack had always thought only of himself.

He could not ask for absolution, not from Joseph. His sins were his to bear to his grave. Yet, he desired nothing more than to feel Joseph in his arms, one last time, and take comfort in him. That, too, was a sin. All he had ever done from Joseph was take and take and take. 

Maybe he hadn’t loved Joseph enough. Maybe if he had said fuck it years ago, none of the years of pain and war would have happened. 

No, that wasn’t right either. He was just feeding his ego again, thinking that the fate of Shiloh and the nation rested on his choices.

It was part luck, part a series of choices made by innumerable people. His father would say it was God’s will, even as he tried to defy God’s will. Maybe ending up here was inevitable. Maybe it wasn’t. Either way, it was impossible to change the past.

No one ever emphasized that enough when Jack was young. Too much talk about fate. Not enough reflection. Not the right kind of reflection, anyway.

“I loved you,” Jack said.

Joseph sank to his knees in front of Jack. His smile was gentle and sweet, just like Joseph had been in life. “I can’t say I didn’t doubt that at times. But I know now.”

“I miss you.” Jack’s voice cracked on the words.

“When the time is right, you’ll see me again. And not a moment before, or I will kill you myself.”

Jack let out a strangled laugh. He felt the tears at the corners of his eyes and he willed them not to fall. He reached out to touch Joseph, but Joseph shifted back, just out of reach.

Jack’s heart ached.

“Jack, I’m going to ask you to do one thing for me.” Joseph smiled. “Maybe I’m the selfish one doing this.”

Jack’s hand hovered near Joseph’s check. “No, you’re not,” he said.

“Find your happiness. Please. And I’ll look for you when the time comes.”

Jack closed his eyes, losing the battle against the tears. There was a whisper of air against his cheek, and when he looked again, Joseph was gone.

That morning, Jack thought. He did nothing but think, turning over every possibility. As the sun reached noon, and then sank lower toward evening, he found himself reaching a decision.

Jack picked up his phone. He rarely used it. Who did he have to talk to nowadays? Thomasina from time to time, but she was a saint for speaking with him at all.

When David had given him the phone, he had placed his number in it. A peace offering perhaps, in light of Jack’s house arrest. Jack had never once used it.

He hit dial next to David’s name. A moment later, he heard, “Jack?”

“When you’ve got time, thought I might ask you about going on a little trip abroad. Get out of your hair for good.”

There was a pause. At last, David said, “Sure. I was hoping you would, eventually.”

“Mmm, like me that much?”

He could hear David’s frown in his response. “You don’t need to be cooped up here forever.”

There were many biting words Jack could have said, and would have, a lifetime ago. Now, instead, he said, “Thanks,” and hung up.

He could not change the past, but he could forge himself a better future.

“Thanks, Joseph,” Jack said to the air. He turned his face to the fading light and felt, for the first time in a long time, a weight lifting from his shoulders.


End file.
